The Sleeping Beauty Effect
by One Red Shoe
Summary: What if before his death, Dumbledore arranged a safe haven for his trusted spy? Powerful magic that would keep him alive if he were placed in mortal danger, but the scene on the Astronomy Tower played out before he could tell anyone what he had done. It's now twenty years later, and Hermione gets a surprise when Minerva asks her to takes on the Potions professorship. EWE and AU.
1. Near Enough Is Not Good Enough

**Disclaimer:-** _I neither own nor earn anything from this story. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and associates._

sSs

**A/N:-** _This will not be a long story, and it is pretty much all written. Please bear with me in the first chapter as I set the scene. As stated in the summary, Snape is alive contrary to what you read in this first chapter. I will also only be dealing with the relationship between Hermione and Severus, even though there are mentions of other relationships, this if wholly a Severus and Hermione fic. Having said all that, I hope you enjoy…_

hHh

**Chapter one – Near enough is not good enough**

Standing at the great gates, the austere witch in the black robes paused. Her wild curly mane was pulled back into a messy bun which sported two eagle feather quills she'd forgotten about. It all suddenly coalesced in her mind where she was about to go, she hadn't been back into that office since the day of the final battle almost twenty years ago.

Britain's Premier Potions mistress was here because Minerva McGonagall had sent her a mysterious and urgent sounding summons for afternoon tea. Hermione had no idea what the headmistress of Hogwarts could want. However, she'd left work early to attend because the missive had sounded so pressing. She sighed; there were definite perks to being the boss of the department, even if she did hate the job.

Now she was looking at the huge stone facade of Hogwarts though, it all seemed a little daunting. She steeled her nerve; Hermione Granger was certain she could do this. She'd been attending parent teacher interviews here for four years. Nothing had happened those times. Really, nothing had happened since that awful last year of school, so it must have been her imagination, right?

The fact that she'd always had Minerva come to her, for afternoon teas and what not, was not noticeable, was it? Had the astute old witch noticed, and issued this invitation because of that? Did someone finally know? How could they?

You see Hermione lived with a secret, an enigma even. The period from three months before the end of the war, and including her last year at Hogwarts had been a tumultuous time. She had never allowed herself to share with anyone her feelings about that time.

She shivered for a number of different reasons, but mostly for remembering the whispers in the night, an unmistakable voice, or stirring from sleep with his name falling from her lips in sheer soul twisting need. She had known she'd been dreaming; she had to be, it was just not possible. So many times, waking after dreaming he was just beyond her around the next corner, yet when she got there finding just another corner.

She'd never told anyone, how could you tell someone you had fallen in love with a ghost? Well that was not strictly true, she had fallen in love with him well and truly before that. She had spent much time pondering if it could be merely an echo, a memory?

Many strange things happened after that final battle, and she'd never once caught sight of him. Sir Nicholas was the only one she'd confided in, one lonely winter's night during her wanderings when she couldn't sleep, and he'd told her sympathetically that he wasn't there, well not as a ghost anyway.

The worst thing had been Potions class. Hermione knew she needed to take it if she wanted to be a Potions mistress, but to say the least, the classes were soul destroyingly boring, mediocre and mundane. She'd hated that it wasn't him, hated that no one censured her, questioned, or fought with her. She'd detested every minute of it.

The then young Gryffindor witch had loathed the constant stream of vacuous praise Potions professor, Horace Slughorn heaped on her. She'd longed to hear _his,_ acidic tongue bringing her back to reality. She would have happily listened to his longed for voice, berate and belittle her efforts all day just to have him back. Then she reflected on the fact that for the last three months before the war, even that had changed as well. It was so unfair, he should still be here.

Biting her lip, with her hand on the huge iron gates, Hermione felt herself being sucked back into the pain again. During the last stages of the war against Voldemort, she had been captured and taken to Malfoy Manor. In the absence of Voldemort, her kidnappers had left at the mercy of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione hadn't realised Harry had been caught as well, and she leant later that Snape had gone after him first, delivering him to The Burrow once rescued. Harry had told her afterwards, what their professor had done.

"He stunned four full grown Death Eaters, even before any of them had time to reach for their wands. Then he used Legilimency to get the information he needed to find you," Harry had said in awe. "He was like a man possessed, he did something to each of their minds before we left," her friend shrugged to indicate that he didn't know what he had done before telling her. "I don't know what," and he'd gone silent watching Hermione fighting not to cry.

Present day Hermione recalled the acute agony of being a guest of Bellatrix Lestrange. She had only just been partly conscious when Snape had stormed into the Manor, but she could picture the scowl affixed to his face and his voluminous robes snapping as he walked.

Even in her half unconscious state, Hermione had seen the look of surprise on the twisted witch's face as he'd thundered into the room and started throwing hexes at her. He'd spoken to her in his most acidic tones. "I always said if this particular witch was captured she would be mine, and yet I find _you_ playing with _my_ prize." Bellatrix was so surprised she just sat where she'd landed, her dagger hanging in her hand, still dripping its gore.

The insane Death Eater had already done significant damage, but Hermione still remembered that brutal rescue playing out as if in a dream-like state. He'd grabbed her roughly by the arm. "I get to finish you Mud-blood," he asserted, and then turned stone-cold eyes to Bellatrix, who was already waiting for the show. "In private," and he'd dragged Hermione mercilessly to the Apparition barrier. Being the current Hogwarts headmaster, he had then apparated them both into his office.

Even if she was partly unconscious, the next part Hermione Granger will remember until the day she dies. She'd been so confused and hurt by what he'd said and done. He'd always been a cold and callous man but she'd never doubted him—not for a moment—until this moment, and it devastated her. Now, she was expecting to be violated in even more vile and sadistic ways, by a wizard she'd trusted.

What she wasn't prepared for however, were his silent tears splashing down on her as he gently swept her into his arms and carried her to his quarters to start healing her. "Shh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he'd murmured when she'd finally been unable to hold back her tears at the pain and humiliation. "You're safe now, go to sleep, little one," realising in that instant that it had been an act to save her and she was indeed safe, Hermione had lost consciousness.

Snape kept her secreted in the headmaster's chambers while she convalesced, Hermione had understood why. News would have travelled fast among the Death Eater's inner-circle of his exploits to possess her; he couldn't let her go until they'd won.

Over the next three month Hermione Granger found out almost everything about this taciturn man was an act. She was surprised by his gentleness, and the care he took tending her injuries in the weeks that followed her rescue. He dressed the wounds that still required care, washed her and fed her when she was too weak to do it herself, and on occasion his resonant voice had even read to her.

In amongst everything that was going on she became his newest project, and she suspected, the one positive thing that kept him sane while the rest of the wizarding world went to hell in a hand-basket. She was his little secret, his unknown leverage over the rest of them.

Once she was strong enough, they started conversing, really talking. He appeared just as starved of decent conversation with sane people as she was. They discussed Potions, Arithmancy, Literature, Art, Music, literally anything and everything. Hermione discovered that he played the violin, and like everything he did, he did it well. She had the great joy of accompanying him on the piano. The Gryffindor witch hoped she'd made a difference to his unpleasant and stressful existence.

He never let his guard slip again like the night he'd rescued her. In fact she reasoned he most likely thought she hadn't been conscious enough to even take it in. She was happy however, when some of the worry lines around his eyes would soften after they had conversed for a while, or played one of the pieces they loved, especially the Paganini Cantabile (1) that was their favourite.

More often than not he would be so exhausted that he'd fall asleep in the chair he had collapsed in after a short time. He never said anything in the morning, but there was something in his expression that somehow conveyed his thanks for levitating him to his bed, and covering him with a warm blanket.

Finally on the last day, when she was to be reunited with Harry and Ron, she'd thanked him sincerely for what he'd done for her, and asked him to be careful. Consoling herself with the fact that maybe when today was finished they could be friends. He promised that he would be on his guard, but he had been struck down by that hideous snake anyway. She had lost the only mind she's ever met that communicated with hers perfectly.

They'd never even touched more than the platonic acts of helping one another, or the brush of finger tips over a book, but she'd longed to hug him before he left that day, and wished he had have let his guard down just once more.

Once Hermione found out what had happened during the course of the battle, and against Harry's advice, she snuck into the Shrieking Shack. She had to see, and if nothing else, say her goodbye to him. What she found startled her; there were copious amounts of blood to be certain, but no body, and no drag marks or footprints out of the gore.

It still made her cry. Not the gut clenching howling sobs she'd allowed herself on the floor of the shack, post battle. No, she somehow managed to contain that sort of emotion now, but there wasn't a day that passed when her soul did not weep quietly for him, internally where no one could see it.

xox

As she started hesitantly up the drive, her thoughts turned even more maudlin. Her failed marriage, she still cringed on the inside when she thought of her ex-husband.

It had only taken a short time for Hermione to realise what a monumental mistake she'd made. Among many small spats, their first big argument had been about children. "I want children as soon as we get married," Ron had sullenly announced to her the day after she'd graduated from Hogwarts. "Now you've finished wasting your time at Hogwarts, we can settle down." He'd kept talking, oblivious to the growing anger on her face.

"Wasting my time," she'd finally shrieked. "Ron," she had countered in sheer exasperation, when he'd looked shocked at her outburst. "It's important to me to finish my education and I will not become pregnant and ruin that," she'd returned.

"But you have finished," Ron said snarkily. "I don't know why you bothered anyway; Kingsley gave us all the jobs we wanted."

"I don't think that was right, and no, I haven't finished my education. My parents have always planned that I would go to University," she was right in his face now. "And I'm going to as well."

Unfortunately this is where Molly had waded into their private, but loud discussion and had quickly quashed Hermione's argument. "Oh no dear, you can't do that, think about poor Ron, he's waited patiently for you for over a year now."

That was it, she realised, it was always 'poor Ron', she'd never really thought about it before she'd agreed to marry him, but this coupled with Molly's 'good basic Wizarding values' conspired to make her life a nightmare. Molly Weasley's preoccupation with her son's well being was a constant thorn in Hermione's already pickled side, and she very quickly realised she was never going to win.

Hermione knew Ron had never really been content with her going back to finish her seventh year when Hogwarts had reopened, but it was the right thing to do, and she had won that round. Now however, Hermione knew if she wanted to marry him and go to University, she'd have to give some ground.

After all she did love him, didn't she? There was always that niggle of doubt there, but what other option did she have? She had to stop pining for a dead man—who would very likely have been horrified to know how she felt anyway—and join the land of the living… right?

So, with her stomach rolling mutinously, and still sceptical about the impending union, but determined not to be left behind, even when her father was still trying to talk her out of the marriage as he was escorting her up the aisle. Hermione Granger had buckled under and married Ronald Weasley.

Hermione's parents had set up a University fund for her when she was born and she'd started attending the Wizarding branch of Cambridge just before her marriage. She didn't see Ron much during this time. She started her years at Uni writing to him every day, he rarely wrote back, and visited even less.

However, one evening, during the fourth year of her course, Ron had turned up unexpectedly with Harry and Ginny in tow. Hermione was in the midst of researching her major project, they were in the initial test stages, and she hadn't welcomed them turning up unannounced. Unfortunately she soon found herself felling into old practices, Ron had pouted and she'd given in, abandoning her lab for drinks at the local pub, and in the process she had ruined a month's work.

That's when it had happened. She had been so busy she hadn't been taking her Contraceptive Potion. After all, what was the point of taking a potion when you weren't having sex?

Another thing she'd done, she realised, was conveniently forgotten she was married, and it came as a nasty shock now to see who she was encumbered, and as alarm bells rang in her head, she instantly wanted to forget it again. During the time she had been away from Ron they had grown further apart, and she had finished growing up.

All of these realisations hit her in the space of an hour. Looking at Harry and Ginny and seeing how happy they were, noting all the little touches and caresses they shared and the evident care and respect they had for one another. They already had two children, and Molly was beside herself with happiness. James had been born about six months after Hermione and Ron's wedding, and Albus just last year.

Hermione watched how Harry saw to Ginny's needs, held her chair out for her, made sure she had a drink etc, the list went on. She compared this with the time she was spending with her _husband_. After ruining her project without a word of understanding or apology, he had proceeded to spend spent the rest of the evening pouting because she wouldn't go to the loos with him and have sex. "Ron, I'm twenty three, and I'm not a trollop," she'd snapped irritatedly. That was all he seemed to think marriage was for.

Finally in desperation to get some peace and quiet—and maybe get back to her lab—she'd decided to take him back to her room. However, a now drunken Ron had other ideas and as soon as they were outside, he roughly manhandled her into the alley beside the pub. Without thinking she gave in and let him have her up against the wall in the hope that afterwards he would just go away and leave her alone.

It lasted all of three minutes. Her _loving_ husband rutted with her like a prize buck, and once he'd come, he had promptly thrown up on her. Hermione was disgusted, she cleaned herself off, told him she wanted a divorce, and apparated away feeling violated and dirty. She'd had to eat her words six weeks later, when she discovered she was pregnant.

Hermione looked at the auburn-headed teenager and then to the brown head of curls of her younger brother as they ran towards her down the drive, and she recalled her utter despair at her daughter Rose's conception.

Her little girl had been one, when it was then finally discovered that _poor_ Ron hadn't been able to keep his fly shut either, and somehow this had been Hermione's fault well. She'd sat there incredulous that particular Sunday just before dinner at The Burrow, when Molly had instantly pronounced after Ron's infidelity had been splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet. "All your problems will magically disappear if you just stop sulking over that silly university, and treated your husband and master with the respect he deserves."

It had taken both Ginny and Harry to restrain her so she wouldn't leap over the table and throttle the self-righteous grin off Ron's cheating face. Hermione managed to wandlessly show the smug bastard and his mother what kind of respect he deserved though, as she hexed the wayward son-of-a-bitch, six ways into next year, and told her meddling mother-in-law, exactly where she could stick her idea of the perfect wizarding marriage.

Hermione had taken her clapping and laughing daughter from her high-chair and apparated them straight to her parents. The Gryffindor witch had refused to eat her words this time when exactly one week after this, she'd found out Hugo was on the way. She'd been caught like before, and it would be her luck that she'd given in to his harassing just to get it over with.

She wasn't in the habit of having sex with him anymore, and he hadn't pestered her for months. Again she'd been researching something, because even if she couldn't finish her degree she could keep working on her research and she wanted to get back to it.

Hermione had realised after Rose's conception that she was no more to him than a convenient port in a storm. Now the picture had formed completely, she was no more to him than a convenience when his current girlfriend was not available. It left her wondering if that was what had happened that night in Cambridge as well.

There was no way she was going back to put up with more from him. Anyway Ron had signed a new contract with the Chudley Canons and was gone, apparently just as happy to be given his freedom.

That was fourteen years ago. Her parents had supported her through everything, and once Hugo had arrived, they encouraged her to finish her degree so she could support her family. Her mother took an extended leave of absence from their Practice, and looked after Rose and Hugo.

The Granger's lived quite close to Cambridge so Hermione had been able to come home each night.

Her decree absolute came through the day before she graduated University. It was a traumatic, but also exhilarating time.

xox

Pulling herself from the recollections, Hermione was engulfed in two hugs. She sighed, it was close to the end of term and she'd missed both her children. "How did you two know I was coming?"

"James, told us, he's been sent to meet you and escort you up," Hugo stated excitedly, and started to explain in great detail the timeline of events since lunch. "Are you here because of the Potions explosion, Mum?" Hugo asked, blinking at her.

Hermione tousled his hair and straightened his red striped tie. "Auntie Minnie didn't say why she wanted to see me, so I'm in the dark as much as anyone." She hugged them both tightly again, and patted down the blue lapels of Rose's robes when she released them. Ron had never understood why Rose hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor, and worse, he'd always given his daughter the impression she'd done something wrong because she wasn't.

Hermione cupped Rose's cheek. She was almost grown up; she'd be fifteen this year. Just by the sparkle in her brown eyes and the roses in her cheeks, Hermione could tell Rose had something to tell her. The ascetic Potions mistress looked past her daughter, to the head of windswept blond hair. The young man had the unmistakable lanky and muscular body of a teenage Malfoy. He was waiting in the shadows with Roberto Parkinson-Zabini, and Rose's best friends Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom. Their other cousins James and Albus joined them, and they all started down the steps to greet Hermione. Seeing where she was looking, Rose hugged her Mother again, and whispered excitedly, "He finally kissed me, Mum. It's official, we're a couple."

Hermione swallowed hard. "That's perfect, love." Hermione found herself fighting tears. She'd never felt as happy, as her daughter obviously was at this moment.

They were halfway down the stairs, when Hugo broke the silence with a mischievous grin. "I wrote to Dad last night," he said slyly, his meaning all too clear.

"You little twerp," Rose rounded on her grinning brother and her wand was out before Hermione could open her mouth, and then they were gone. "Hey guys, help me catch this little dweeb," she shouted, as Hugo went to shoot past the group and in through the great doors.

Something else Ron didn't understand was that Harry and Ginny had become friends with Draco and Astoria. It had just developed, and the four of them had simply included Hermione and her kids as part of their group. If Rose was going to reveal her relationship with Scorpius to her father, Hermione was going to have to make certain that happened under the right circumstances.

Hermione shook her head, at the playfulness of the group as she watched James Potter approaching her. "The Headmistress sent me to escort you up, Aunt Hermione." It was like looking at a teenage Harry all over again, but at the moment with just a touch of Percy Weasley's pompousness thrown in. James Potter was in his last year, and like this pompous uncle, he was head boy.

"Thank you James," Hermione said, snickering to herself. _Auntie 'Mione was obviously not grown up enough now_, and they walked in very reverent silence_. I wonder what kind of accident happened? I hope no-one was hurt. _Hermione pondered.

The closer they came to the Headmistresses office the more eager Hermione became not to show exactly how nervous she was. It had already occurred to her that she would be coming face to face with Professor Snape's portrait. A little part of her was happy about that, even if the greater part was terrified.

oOo

**Notes:-** (1) Paganini Cantabile for violin and piano


	2. Oh No!

**Disclaimer:- **_I neither earn nor own anything. Harry Potter and his world are the property of JK Rowling and Associates. I only claim my plot and the joy of writing with these characters._

sSs

**A/N:- **_Somewhere in the works of things this story has slipped through the cracks. When I posted the first chapter yesterday, there was no confirmation that it had been posted, anyway, I figured I would post the next chapter and see what happened. _

hHh

**Chapter Two – Oh No!**

James left her at the foot of the stairs, after importantly announcing the password. Hermione took some deep breathes in an attempt to still her racing heart, and a hesitant knock on the door later saw her admitted in the office by Minerva. "Hermione," her elderly mentor said enthusiastically and pulled her into a hug. "It's been too long."

Hermione gave the old witch a cautious smile but, "Mmm," was the only response she could muster under her present circumstances.

"I'm sorry to drag you up here," she said, and indicated a chair by the fire, opposite the one she'd obviously just risen from.

Hermione's thoughts wondered as she watched Minerva make herself comfortable again as she poured the tea. Why had the Headmistress used the word 'drag', _she obviously does know something_, Hermione theorised.

Levitating a cup to Hermione, Minerva took the other witch by surprise as she continued, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "I know what happened, and what he did for you all those years ago."

In her profound shock Hermione almost missed the cup. "I beg your pardon, Minerva?"

The headmistress drew a long and slightly wheezy breath. "I'm sorry to shock you, my dear, but at one hundred and seven, I think I've earned the right to speak plainly. I know what Severus did for you. How he saved you from torture and cared for you here. I am sad to say though; I only found out, that and many other things, all too late. It is one of the greatest regrets of my life that I treated him so appallingly that last year."

Not bothering to deny it, Hermione took a sip of her tea to steady herself. "Who told you?" her voice was shaky, but she knew there was only one other—apart from the man himself—who knew.

"Sir Nick," Minerva saw her companion's mouth move into a mirthless smile. The elderly witch held her hand up in warning, "And before you hunt him down and end his ghostly existence, I had to coerce it out of him. So don't be upset with him, he only told me in the end…" she paused and sighed, "because I am in the habit of sharing with the house ghosts my plans for the school. Sometimes they have a unique insight about things."

Minerva's eyes watched Hermione intently, and she saw a great sadness settle upon her. _Maybe it will be too much to ask her?_ Despite her thoughts Minerva pushed ahead, knowing she had to give her all time favourite student the opportunity. Besides, she was the best one for the job. "I have something I need to ask you."

Hermione didn't seem to hear her, as while Minerva had been speaking the younger witch's eyes had finally risen to scan the wall of portraits for the dark eyes she craved more than any others. "He's not here," she gasped, visibly shaken.

"No," Minerva said, nodding sadly. Hermione's eyes were already narrowing. "It's not what you're thinking, my dear, so save your ire."

"Then I will ask you to please explain," Hermione replied coolly.

Minerva sighed, "When the castle was rebuilt after the battle, it was discovered that several portraits had been damaged. At first this is what I had thought had happened to Severus'." She sighed, "Then when it came out how Dumbledore had manipulated and used Harry, a mere child," she shook her head. "Well, used all of you really," she took a sip of her tea. "As you know, the scandal at such breach of trust was enormous. All Albus' portraits were banished to a storage area deep within the bowels of the castle, and I wondered if they had done the same with Severus." The Headmistress took a steadying breath, "As much as he didn't deserve it, but you know how bureaucrats work. Anyway, I had cause to be in a storage area with the matriarch of the elves one day some time ago, and I found Severus' portrait."

"Well, why didn't you have it placed where it should be?"

"Because it's not awake." The former Transfiguration mistress heard the gasp and the telltale rattle of an unsteady tea cup, and she continued with her account quickly. "At first I thought the spell that activates the painting hadn't worked, so I had it checked by a well known portrait artist, he told me the spell was in perfect working order."

Minerva saw Hermione's features close off completely at this piece of information. _Damn_, she thought_, I shouldn't have told her like that, I think there's more at play here than gratitude_. Minerva cleared her throat. "Anyway," she went on quickly, "that's a mystery for another day, I invited you here, because," she sighed, "well, because I need a Potions professor, and I need one by Monday." The Headmistress glanced over her square spectacles at the now pale and shocked woman opposite her, as she heard another rattle of china and an audible intake of breath.

Hermione hastily placed her cup beside her before she dropped it. "What," she gasped. "Oh Minerva, I don't think I could… are you asking me to… oh dear, err, I mean…" there was a longer pause, finally she just added, "Oh!" and gulped. _How can she ask me to? But then she doesn't know… oh no._ Hermione was silent for a long moment, her mind literally reeling, however, soon more thoughts started to coalesce in her addled mind. _Perhaps it might actually excise these feelings I've spent years trying to remove, but why isn't he's portrait alive? _The other side of her brain said, _it might make them worse too._ Then the first voice returned to chide her. _What would you know?_ Then Hermione's logical rational side took hold. _Minerva's been very good to you, you can't let her down, but why does she need a Potions professor so urgently, anyway?_

Taking a deep breath, Hermione finally simply asked, "Why?" and in hindsight, she realised that even that word had sounded more like a huff of air than actually articulated speech.

Minerva sighed, and her lips tightened. "The whole truth hasn't come out yet… but there was an explosion. The student body knows about that," she chuckled, "that was very hard to hide." Hermione nodded, "It occurred while the former professor and her assistant were supposed to be brewing for the infirmary."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I can't think of any potions that the infirmary might need, that would be that volatile. Well unless one wasn't taking notice of… oh!" Hermione smirked sarcastically. "_Miss_ Merryweather is young isn't she, and I take it the assistant was a seventh year male."

Minerva gave her a sage expression. "As astute as ever, my dear. I've managed to keep that little snippet of information quiet for the moment. The _professor_ has been dismissed and the boy cautioned, and from what I hear, she has a ruined reputation and they will be marrying during the holidays, before he finishes school."

"Surely that would be the last thing to be encouraged?"

"I'm afraid the subsequent physical examination after the accident showed the fact that there is a third party now involved."

Hermione was about to say many things, however, her own circumstance cut her off. At least her pregnancies had been the results of interactions with her spouse."

"I must admit," the elderly witch grimaced, "I feel badly for her." Minerva paused, before asking, "It is difficult for young teachers cut off as they are from society out here."

Hermione remained unmoved, and Minerva glanced at the growing darkness enveloping them, so the Headmistress encouraged, "It looks like rain, and I do not wish to be held responsible for you catching cold."

"Yes, I better get going," Hermione agreed, she very much wished to be alone to pondered everything she had just been told.

"Will you consider what I've asked you, and return tomorrow," Minerva asked somewhat cautiously.

Sighing, Hermione nodded. "Very well, thank you, Minnie." She gave the elderly witch an affectionate peck on the cheek. "Don't get up, love, I can see myself out."

Minerva embraced her from the comfort of her armchair. "I'll see you tomorrow," she asked, hopefully.

Hermione gave her a smile that could only at best be described as watery and finally nodded as she started for the door.

xox

Hermione went away from Hogwarts that afternoon, greatly perplexed. _What could this all mean?_ The storm clouds brewing overhead were an ominous inky black, and they added to her morose mood, somehow symbolic of the turmoil in her mind.

There were bats and owls just making their way from the sanctuary of the Forbidden Forest on their nightly forages, and they appeared in stark contrast against such clouds as they soared through the air. Hermione sighed, the general feeling of foreboding before a storm was hanging heavily in the air and weighing deeply on Hermione.

It was autumn and the leaves drew her attention in the twilight, swirling around her in little eddies as the breeze picked up with the approaching storm. _Can I do this?_ But this contemplation was suddenly replaced with a random thought that sent a tendril of excitement through her. _Why hasn't Severus' portrait activated?_ _Was there actually a chance that that wasn't dead? _

From Hermione's understanding of Hogwarts a History, the portraits were painted when the new head took office and then stored, magically changing in appearance until the witch or wizard's death, when they were imbibed with the magic that produced an echo of the person they represented. The only past head that Hermione knew this didn't apply to was Dolores Umbridge, whose appointment had been unlawful.

Was it possible that Professor Snape's had also been this; after all he was appointed by a tyrant and a gaggle of corrupt officials in a time of war. Maybe he was dead, and his portrait had just been denied. _No_, she thought, _the headmaster's office allowed him to enter it, not like Umbridge, and Minnie said the magic in the portrait was working._ Hermione scrubbed her hands over her face pondering her new problems. A bolt of silver flashed through the sky, closely followed by a rumbling peal of thunder as the first turgent drops of rain started to fall. Hermione hardly even registered the commotion around her, not even the sting of the rain on her face as she continued to wander down the driveway.

She was far to engrossed in her thoughts. _But how could he have? Of course it is possible that after the battle he'd managed to drag himself away, no not possible,_ she was probably unaware that she was shaking her head as she walked._ There would have been a trail. No, maybe he just left not wanting to see any of us again? _That last thought had hurt more than she cared to admit_. But, why would Severus have left her Spinner's End in his will, if he'd still been alive... but then that was just the process of time, after seven years he was presumed dead… but still he must have changed his will before the final battle to leave it to her. _Hermione found her head starting to tighten into a full blown headache, but still her mind questioned what was happening.

"Why did he leave it to me anyway," she had stopped mid-step to consider this, "there were no instructions…" This sentence was cut short by her exclamation of, "Oh no!" and Hermione was suddenly running the last bit to the Apparition barrier. _I never thought of that. I've never been able to go into the house. I just added to his wards and left_. "Hang on a minute, his wards are still active. If he'd been dead… Oh Shit!"

Adding up all the mounting evidence Hermione realised that the man she wanted to be free to get to know more desperately than anything, may somehow still be alive. Apparating to Spinner's End, it occurred to her, there were two possibilities if he _was_ alive. Either, he had indeed left, throwing off all his shackles or perhaps he had managed to do something to keep himself safe if he was threatened._ Is it possible he trusted me to find out what? _"Oh no, have I failed him when _he_ saved me? Is that why he left Spinner's End to me, because it contained some clue?"

xox

Concentrating and turning on the spot, Hermione landed in the familiar little alley beside the house. She may not have ventured into the dilapidated stone tenement, but she certain had been back here more than a few times over the years. She had found out more about the man after his death, than she would ever have been able to learn during his life.

At certain times in the year, especially when it was the anniversary of the final battle, Hermione sought refuge from the world here. This was a forgotten little piece of England and no one knew where to find her. She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the freezing rain soaking through her clothes, it was just at the thought of that day. That day usually hit her very hard. As she did on his birthday when she would visit the memorial they had erected in honour of his sacrifices, she would come here and just sit. These were the only times she ever allowed her tears to fall these days.

But this time instead of heading for the disused playground at the end of the lane to sit and contemplate the house and its one time occupant, Hermione approached the front door only she could see. Part of her protection, was to make the house and grounds unplottable, just like Grimmauld Place.

As she stared at the cold stone and the desolate looking front door with her two major hypothesises still floating around her brain, a third occurred to her. Could Dumbledore have done something that he thought would keep him safe? Knowing the lack of communication of plans with Dumbledore, that could literally mean anything.

Standing at the door, she took in its derelict appearance. Not once in thirteen years had she felt the wards she'd added move, so she knew no one had been in or out. Hermione's eyes focused on the dull flaking door, and she had the absurd urge to knock.

Then without warning as she hesitantly raised her wand to the door to take down the wards, all sorts of wild and absurd thoughts started buzzing around her brain. _What if he's been living here as a hermit, and he doesn't want to see me?_ She knew this was a ridiculous notion and looking at the accumulated grunge around the door, Hermione saw that it hadn't actually been opened in a very long time. _That could just be for show, he's a wizard after all_, her addled brain told her, but then she thought the worst thing. _What if, he somehow apparated back here after the battle, and died_. An image of a skeleton in black robes sprawled out across some antique piece of furniture shimmered across the screen of her mind, and an unwelcome sob left her lips. _Why did I never think to check? _

Despite herself, Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes. _What if, somehow I was supposed to stop that happening, and I've failed him?_ "I can't do this," she muttered plaintively, and gathering herself together, Hermione realised she needed help.

Trying to focus on not splinching herself Hermione apparated away, arriving on the Potter's doorstep. A very surprised Ginny opened the door at number twelve to an unexpected sight. "Hermes, whatever is the matter?"

"I.. see… y-you see, I can't," Hermione stuttered.

By this time, a quizzical looking Harry had also appeared. Looking at her two best friends, it all fell from Hermione's lips in a garbled mess. "I can't do it… I've loved him forever… but he's dead. Then this… and I can't go there… well I did, but I couldn't go in." She looked back up at her stunned friends. "What if I was supposed to save him like he saved me, and I didn't. What if there's a skeleton there and not," her hands clapped over her mouth, as she tried to hold back the sobs that wanted to escape. They heard her mutter into her hands, "Oh my god!"

By this time Hermione was unable to stop crying, twenty years of pent-up grief spilled out. This had all been too much for her, and she sobbed in relief as she felt herself being pulled into a hug, finally she's told someone, her secret was out. Ginny and Harry bustled her inside, she was soaking wet from the rain and starting to shiver.

Raising his wand, Harry dried her and applied a warming charm. Ginny stood holding her friend while she released her tears, and she sort her husband's eyes, "Who?" she mouthed over Hermione's shoulder.

It was like an express train coming out of a tunnel, suddenly it hit Harry. Somehow he realised he'd always known. They'd all known there was something Hermione wasn't telling them, but no one had ever put two and two together.

After her divorce Hermione had been offered the moon by many wizards, yet she had rejected them all in favour of her own company. He remembered her saying to Ginny once, "I've got my children, sex is only for procreation, I don't need it." Everyone had tried to make her see reason, but she had refused to even consider dating, let alone marrying again.

Now it all fell neatly into place for him, Hermione Granger was in love with the wizard who had saved her and nursed her back to health all those years ago, and looking at the mess she was in, he wondered what had happened. "Let's get her into the lounge," Harry whispered to Ginny, and then helped his wife to get Hermione to walk.

Grimmauld Place looked nothing like it did back in their student days. Once sitting in the comfy leather lounge, tissues at her elbow, brandy in her hand and Ginny whipping her up something to eat. Harry said, "Okay Hermes, start from the beginning. It's Snape you're talking about, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded, she was shocked at what she'd just done. Britain's foremost Potions mistress didn't drop her bundle like that. She drew a shuddering breath and when Ginny returned. Her friends listened carefully as Hermione finally told them the whole truth about everything. At the end of her explanation she felt exhausted, but relieved.

"Well, as you've already worked out the obvious place to look is Spinner's End," Harry said, running his hand through his still–even after all these years—perpetually messy hair.

He looked at Ginny and she nodded, "We'll go with you, love."

Looking startled, Hermione inhaled a deep breath. "I couldn't ask you guys to do that," she tried.

Only to be cut off by Ginny. "We're friends, right. You'd do the same thing for us, and you obviously need support. Come on," and she held her hand out.

"I agree," added Harry, "If there is the remotest possibility that Snape's out there and something's been done to magically preserve him," he looked at the two witches, "and believe me, as an Auror, I've seen some unbelievable things." He watched a tear trickle down Hermione's cheek again. "Don't worry Hermes, we'll find him," he said, summoning their cloaks.

Before she knew it, they were all apparating to the coordinates she's given them. Hermione quickly scrawled on a piece of parchment from her pocket. Severus Snape lived in the last house on Spinner's End. She showed it to both of them, and the shabby tenement shimmered into view before them.

Hermione couldn't believe she was shaking so badly as she raised her wand to bring down the wards. Pushing on the door, it creaked ominously as the hinges groaned under the weight of being asked to function for the first time in years. Their senses were assaulted with the aroma of old books, must and general disuse. "Phew," Harry muttered, waving his hand in front of his nose.

"Well, it least it's nothing worse," Ginny whispered back. Then she muttered, "Sorry," when Hermione glared at them both.

Taking a tentative step they were out of the rain. At least Ginny had thought to cast an impervious on them all.

"_Lumos_," Harry muttered, and they took in the peeling wallpaper, dusty furniture, and the rows and rows of books that lined the room in the ghostly light of his wand.

"Wow," gasped Ginny, "look at the books."

They searched the house top to bottom, but there was no sign of a Potions master, or a message or anything that might indicate that there was a mystery. The trio went back to number twelve with a very pensive Hermione Granger. "I was certain there would be something there," she sighed, dejectedly.

"Never mind this is only the first place we could look. I wonder if Draco knows anything?" Ginny asked.

"Well there's one way to find out," Harry returned, sliding with ease to his knees in front of the fire.

"It's very late," Hermione offered.

"Draco was only talking about the fate of his godfather last time they were over. I'm sure he'll want to help."


	3. Can I Find You ?

**Disclaimer:- **_I neither earn anything from nor own the world of Harry Potter, I merely enjoy taking the characters out to play and having some fun, then carefully putting them back where they belong._

sSs

**A/N:- **_Thank you to each and every one who has reviewed, made this story a favourite or is following it. I appreciate each of you. So, without further ado, on with the story…_

hHh

**Chapter Three – Can I Find You?**

After Draco left Grimmauld Place that night, Hermione went home and simply sat, thinking about all the information she had learned since meeting with Minerva that afternoon. Draco hadn't been able to shed any further light on what Hermione already knew, however, he had told her that if there was a chance his godfather was alive he would do everything in his power to help.

He did put one of Hermione's fears to rest though. He was adamant that if Severus Snape was alive he would never have just abandoned them. "If he is alive, he'll be in limbo somewhere, unable to contact us," the blond Slytherin had said, "Considering the fact that we never did find a trace of him—and believe me, I tried—anything is possible."

They had all agreed in the end that since Hermione—and she wasn't about to explain exactly why—was the only one who seemed to have had any contact with Severus since his 'death' then she was the only one who may be able to solve the mystery.

Really the only feasible way to do that was for her to spend the night at Hogwarts and see if the dreams came again. To a certain extent she needed to do that anyway before she decided whether to take the professorship Minerva was offering. Hermione shivered, the desolation in those dreams was something she had never wanted to experience again, ever. Then she reflected that they were only desolate because of the thought that it could never happen, wasn't it possible that with new insight they might yield a different outcome.

Another factor was that twenty years had passed; surely her adult mind could cope now with the tauntings of her fantasies, and it was entirely possible that her adult mind could have an insight that her teenage mind had not. After all, she was now a fairly accomplished Legilimens, nowhere near as good as Severus had been, but perhaps this might work to her advantage.

Her thoughts led her to her favourite occupation - research. There was a book on dreams she knew of in her library, and it was no ordinary book on explaining the meaning of dreams. This was the witch's companion to dreams, a book she had read in her last year at Hogwarts but found she didn't understand very well. However, this time when she read it, it was most illuminating, especially when she reached the part on soul-bonds.

However, the information contained within this section, most certainly did not fill her with any warmth, because if it was true, she had been truly negligent. She read it forcing the logical side of her mind to remind her that not only didn't she know whether Severus was actually alive, and at the time, she most certainly hadn't believed it was possible that he was her soul-mate.

Thinking about this led her to a book on soul-bonds which made her even more eager to prove or disprove what the book on dream had said. It told her that the only circumstance where a partner from a destined couple called out to their mate in dreams was when they were separated with no escape, but life continued.

"Oh no," she muttered, reading further, she gasped again and abruptly started pacing, with the discarded page still open to the line that she had left it. It was all starting to drop into place, had it been his spirit that had been trying to guide her to where his body was?

All those dreams that last year of school, she went back to the book and read, "…Your mate is most likely to be appear to you in the place where you felt most connected." The book made the last piece fall into place. "Hogwarts," she gasped.

Then she abruptly sobered. If all this was true, she had let him down badly. He had saved her and she had forsaken him in return. Hermione realised that even if she did make contact with him, he would have been hanging around in limbo for twenty years. With his legendary temper that could only translate into one outcome—even if this was somehow true—she'd blown any chance she ever had with him, without even knowing she had a chance.

Hermione plopped back into her desk chair, feeling defeated. She felt a great pain settle over her, and scrubbing her hands over her face and all she just wanted to do was curl into a ball and give into it. _How could I have lost any chance I had?_ As much as she wanted to subdivide this in her head, a jaw cracking yawn took control of her and she realised it must be terribly late. Glancing up at the clock, she grimaced, S_trike that_, she thought, _it's terribly early, ugh_. Resolutely pushing down her emotions, she took stock. "Okay, what do I need to do first?" Her mind scrambled for routine to overcome her greater urge to cry. "Call in sick? No, today's Saturday." She thumped the heel of her hand on her forehead. "Great now I'm talking to myself as well, get a grip, Granger."

xox

Hermione arrived in the Great Hall at breakfast time, being a Saturday morning, and so early, there were very few children present when she arrived and even less teachers. Minerva was there though, and welcomed her warmly. "Sit down, have some breakfast," she offered, and then looking at her closely, she asked, "Have you actually slept at all?"

Giving the headmistress a tight smile, Hermione laughed, "Of course, Minnie."

Minerva chuckled as she poured Hermione a cup of tea from her own pot. "You're cheeky, Hermione Granger, I know you haven't. You've been up all night researching, haven't you?"

Hermione had the grace to look sheepish. "Yes," she admitted, "apart from anything else, this whole mystery is intriguing." Pausing, she bit her lip and looked around as Professor's Vector and Flitwick came in for breakfast. After standing to greet both her former professors, Hermione sat back down with Minerva, and leaned forward to speak candidly. "My research has been most… enlightening, and I wish to ask a favour of you before I tell you whether I can take the position you've offered me."

Minerva was now also intrigued, but was determined her favourite student should eat before they left, and placing a plate she'd prepared in front of Hermione she nodded. "Eat up and then we'll go to my office."

Being too occupied before and too unsettled now wondering what she might discover with a night's sleep, Hermione had forgotten to eat. As the plate arrived in front of her, her hunger made its presence known in no uncertain terms. She inhaled deeply as her nasal passages were filled by the wonderful aroma of good elf cooking, and her stomach informed her that she needed to eat.

xox

Feeling like she'd eaten altogether too fast, Hermione walked with Minerva, in silent thought as they approached the Gargoyles.

Once they were seated, Hermione quietly—without the hysterics that had come upon her at the Potters—explained exactly what had transpired from her captured to her last year at Hogwarts, and then how she had never been able to excise the wizard who had saved her from her heart.

Minerva sat listening, a grave expression on her face. When Hermione had finished, her mentor rose and walked over to her. Minerva pulled Hermione out of her chair with a strength her former student would never have thought her somewhat frail body would have, and drawing her into an embrace she said, "Oh child, why did you not tell me?"

A shocked Hermione stuttered, "I s-saw no point." She took a shuddering breath trying to suppress the emotion bubbling up to the surface. "As far as any of us knew, he was d-dead." her voice faltered, and clearing her throat she said, "I forced myself to get on with life." She swiped at a tear that had escaped her control and snorted ruefully. "Granted, I chose exactly the wrong person to do that with but…"

"Hermione, you have to look at the two fine individuals that currently attend this school to see that your marriage did indeed produce something good."

"Yes I know, but if it's at all possible, I would like..." She inhaled deeply, "That's if I haven't buggered up any chance of… and of course if I'm right to start with."

"Well where would you like to start?"

"I guess the quarters I shared with Severus in the three months before the final battle would be the best place to start," Hermione said, wondering how Minerva would react to this request.

"Ah, yes… well there may be a problem there. The quarter's Severus used when he was here as Headmaster are these rooms, but they are not the same," Minerva explained.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"The Headmaster's quarters sealed themselves when they were under threat. Soon after Mr. Potter had left just before the battle, I presume."

"You mean like they did when that Umbridge woman took control?"

Minerva nodded, "Yes, except when I took the position and the office re-opened, well the living quarters were bare. It is possible that somewhere in this sentiment building all of Severus' belongings lay in storage, because nothing has ever been recovered." The elderly witch thought for a moment. "It's like the castle is protecting his belongings," she said with a frown on her face.

xox

Later, when Hermione walked out of the office, her mind was swimming with yet more information. She was on her way to check out the Potions professor's quarters and the classroom. There was a thought that kept whispering to her. _Perhaps the castle is protecting him as well, but how?_

Stopping in front of the familiar door to gather her resolve, she took a deep breath. "Don't be an idiot, Granger," she chided herself, and drew her wand. The door to the classroom was only protected with basic security wards, but as soon as she opened it, her senses were reeling.

There were some minor differences but the smells assailing her nose were the same as they'd always been. The accident had happened in the private lab, so everything here was as it had been from the time she'd been a student here, with only minimal change from successive teachers and the march of time.

Walking through to the office door, she opened it cautiously, and for some reason she had a pang of disappointment even as she breathed a sigh of relief that the office was empty. "All right, get it together, he's not going to mysteriously jump out from somewhere, just because you think he's alive," she muttered.

Mind you she did get a fright when she opened to door to the private quarters and she saw something dark move in her peripheral vision. "_Lumos_," she commanded quickly, and saw that for some unknown reason there was a raven perched on the back of the desk chair. However, on closer inspection, where upon the raven also scrutinized her, she discovered that it was a bird she thought she knew. "Saffie?" she questioned, making the bird caw. "Oh my giddy Aunt," Hermione muttered and without looking away from its beady bird-eye she aimed her wand at the floo and called, "Minerva, could you come here as soon as you can, please?"

Minerva walked almost instantly through the floo. "What is it?" and her eyes followed where Hermione's were still fixed. "Oh dear Merlin, where did she come from?"

"It is her, isn't it?" Hermione questioned almost wildly.

"Well I've never known another familiar who perched like that on the back of their master's chair with quite that devious expression on her face," Minerva looked at Hermione, "Have you?"

Hermione was absently shaking her head. "She must be hungry," Hermione finally said.

This shook Minerva out of her thoughts. "Oh yes, I guess she would be," she turned towards the fireplace and said, "Kitchens."

"This is being Tindle, Mrs Headmistress ma'am. How is Tindle being able to help you?"

"Tindle please bring food suitable for a raven, and water in a cup, to the Potions professor's quarters."

"Yes'm, right away Mrs Headmistress ma'am."

Minerva took a log from the wood box by the fire and Transfigured it into the most ornate perch and stand Hermione had ever seen, by then the elf had arrived with the food, Saffie cawed, as if in thanks, and wasted no time digging right in. "This really is becoming quite a mystery, isn't it?" Minerva said, looking at the bird, but talking to Hermione.

"It certainly is," Hermione agreed, absently stroking the sleek bird's midnight-black feathers as she ate. "How long since the explosion?"

"Wednesday, so this is the fourth day." Then she cackled, "Come to think of it, the workmen told me that something was stealing their lunches, perhaps we've just found the culprit."

Hermione laughed, "Well she certain is a good Slytherin familiar, she was a sneaky bird back when I was living…" she abruptly stopped talking and cleared her throat. Shaking herself Hermione said, "Minerva, I've been thinking this ever since I left your office," she sighed, "Do you think it's possible that the castle has somehow saved Severus, and is waiting for us to do the right things to find him?"

Minerva's eyebrows shot up, "Well, I suppose anything is possible."

xox

After pottering around for the rest of the day, it was finally early evening, and Hermione was exhausted after not having slept the night before. She'd spent the day wandering aimlessly, she was unable to settled and wondered if she would actually manage to sleep at all when she finally tried.

Minerva had optimistically assigned Hermione an elf and had left her—by Hermione's own request—to eat in the quarters. She didn't actually want her children to know too much yet, in case she decided she couldn't deal with the position, there was no way she could explain why.

The bird, Saffie also seemed to be just as unsettled, and this troubled Hermione. First off she couldn't understand where the bird had arrived from, after not being seen for twenty year. True, she was obviously good at hiding, but for twenty years? No, it was more likely that something had made her return from somewhere.

It was then she had decided that she should read the section in, '_Hogwarts A History'_, on the properties of magic imbibed into the actual castle building, in fact she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her earlier.

Sitting in a comfortable armchair she pulled her favourite book from her bag and enlarged it. Even after all these years of reading it, every time she looked in this book she seemed to find something new, and tonight was no different. She started reading, but soon her eyes grew heavy and her head slumped forward.

Almost immediately her mind was filled with images and sound. There was an unmistakable voice muttering in her mind. "If I ever get out of here, I'll curse that old buzzard from his grave so I can kill him all over again… voluntarily this time."

The other person in the room she'd landed in had his back to her, but he was so instantly familiar to her that her knees wanted to buckle at the sight of him. He appeared to be staring into the distance out a long window, with his forearm raised and leaning on the window frame. Hermione noticed that the night sky she could see over his shoulder, matched what she imagined it would be tonight overhead.

Hermione moved closer, creeping silently, skirting the edge of the room. Not watching where she was going she stubbed her toe on a chair, and as pain shot through her, without thinking she yelped. This was despite her brain registering that she must be dreaming, and it could not have possibly hurt if this was the case.

Then knowing she would have been heard, her eyes came back up from glaring at the chair she'd tripped on, just in time to see a magnificent ripple of black robes flaring out as the owner span around on hearing the noise she'd made. Hermione stood there like a rabbit in headlights and watched him advancing on her, stalking like a panther.

"Who are you?" he demanded, instinctively moving to his wand.

But Hermione was entranced watching him coming closer to her. Finally she raised her hand as if to touch him, but thought better of it and she said airily, "Are you real?"

"What do you mean, real?" His eyes… his fathomless, velvet-black eyes were on her face. They held many things, but the most prominent of these was confusion. Without warning he raised his hand and gently touched her cheek. "You look like a girl I used to know…" his eyes panned up and down Hermione leaving a trail of shivers in the wake. "But you're a woman…" His expression changed to disappointment and he turned away muttering to himself, "Of course she can't be real… If only I'd seized that moment before that accursed snake…" and he shook his head.

Hermione was having trouble comprehending what he was saying, but suddenly it clicked, she was just starting to say, "I _am_ that girl…" and she felt herself being dragged backwards with a thumping sound that dream Severus didn't seem to be able to hear.

As her dreamscape became misty, she saw him turning back around in response to her "Nooo, I've just found him. I have so many questions," but it was too late she was opening her eyes. She was sitting in the chair and someone was pounding on the door. "Damn," she cursed, and placing her still open book on her chair, as she hurried to the door.

Draco and Harry stood on her doorstep; the latter was just raising his fist to bang on the door again.

"Good going, Potter. I told you she'd be asleep, you know what she's like when she gets her teeth into a mystery."

Harry sighed, "Yeh, she runs until she collapses, sorry. 'Mione." He looked past Hermione's dishevelled head to the chair by the fire. "Look there it is, if she can't find the answer anywhere else…"

Harry was cut-off by Hermione clearing her throat. "I know it may be hard for you two to believe, but I am here listening to you. What do you want?"

"All right, there's no reason to be crabby, Granger," Draco smoothed. "We've just done you a huge favour."

"Oh this'll be good," Hermione snarked, her eyes narrowing. "And exactly what have you two done for me?"

"Hey, Severus had a crow just like that?" Draco said, pushing passed her and inviting himself in to see.

"Way to go, ferret boy. You and shiny objects," Hermione scoffed, turning around to watch him.

Draco turned back around and grinned. "Watch it, Granger or we won't tell you we've found a map that tells us where to find Dumbledore's portrait in the castle. When he reached the bird it snapped at him. He rolled his eyes, "You haven't changed in twenty years," he told the bird, who flapped her wings and threatened him again with her head down and her beak open.

"So you think it's Severus' bird, as well."

Draco laughed, "No other bird I know has ever had the same reaction to me. Where did you find it?" Saffie lowered her head and cawing irritatedly, waggle her head at him. "All right, her, her… see, you black feather-duster, I can be civil."

They all laughed when Saffie looked at him with her beady bird-eye like, 'yeh sure' then turning her back and showed him her displeasure in a rather noisy and sloppy fashion, even if the self-cleaning perch vanished it before it hit the floor, it didn't stop the noise or the laughing caw she emitted.

Hermione had been watching while leaning up against the doorframe. Her mind was still firmly with her recently interrupted dream… well whatever it was. She had to admit that her friends had lousy timing, but at least they had been trying to help her. "Somehow I don't think trolling the bowels of the castle will help," she said, pushing off the door. "I actually think that the castle is protecting Severus in some way, and when the explosion happened Saffie managed to get out." Harry and Draco looked at her puzzled. "Has Minerva ever told either of you that none of Severus' belongings have ever been recovered?"

"No," they said in unison, and Harry took up her train of thought. "If you think that then if he is here somewhere, it must be close by."

Hermione nodded, "In the dream I just had, there were windows and an archway like the ones in the Potions classroom."

They both pounced on her. "What dream?"

"The one that your thundering knocks just interrupted." Both men cringed like she was about to hit them.

"Well, quick, go back to sleep and ask him where he is?" Draco encouraged optimistically, pushing her back towards the arm chair.

Hermione smacked his hands away, "It's not that simple, you idiot," she snapped, and digging her heels in the ground, she crossed her arms savagely.

"Okay, we're just going to leave you to your own devices," Harry said, discretely pulling Draco towards the door. "Come over for lunch tomorrow and tell us what happened tonight," he encouraged.

"Yeh, Granger, and if you need the map we'll talk about it then," Draco added as he disappeared out the door.

"Oh, inviting yourself to lunch now are you?" Harry chuckled.

"You know you want me to come, I add a certain…" he never got to finish his sentence, because Harry pushed him up the hallway. "Hey Potty, don't push so hard, get off," and still squabbling light-heartedly, they were gone.

When the troublesome twosome were firmly behind the door, Hermione smiled at their antics, as she collapsed into the chair Draco had tried to push her, and started summing up the situation. "Okay, what do I know?" she muttered, distractedly. She collated all the facts as she knew them in her mind, and finally looked to Saffie. "Where did you come from?" The bird cawed as if in challenge for her to work it out. "Draco's right, you are a black feather-duster," Hermione then returned, irritatedly. She was certain the damnedable bird laughed at her, and the Gryffindor witch took to staring at the fire.

After two hours, she knew she would never get to sleep, so Hermione decided on an impromptu patrol of the corridors. That used to clear her mind when she couldn't settle before. So she wandered, re-visiting all her old haunts, and as she did so she thought. Of course as it often did, this led her to the Library, and of all things she wished to research, she was searching for books about nautical wizardry – if indeed there was such a thing.

Irma Pince furrowed her brow, but directed her to a section related to weather wizardry. Hermione selected several books and headed for the teacher's research area. After about an hour she found exactly what she was looking for, and after memorising the spell and the swish, flick, counter-clockwise half circle, swish movements of her wand, she hurried back to her quarters.

oOo

**A/N:-** I know, I'm leaving you all hanging. Now tsk tsk, such language – but I've already started writing the next chapter. Please also remember that this is a mystery, and I might not have thrown in a red-herring yet, so be prepared. xoxox


	4. The Search Begins

**Disclaimer:-** _I neither own nor earn anything from this story. The only part I can claim is my plot and I make no money from it. Harry Potter and his wonderful world is the property of JK Rowling and Associates._

sSs

**A/N:-** _This is only a short chapter, but I wanted a whole chapter for the next section. Thank you everyone who reviewed, is following and has made this story a favourite. I appreciate you all. Now on with the story…_

hHh

**From last time:-** …_After about an hour she found exactly what she was looking for, and after memorising the spell and the swish, flick, counter-clockwise half circle, swish movements of her wand, she hurried back to her quarters._

oOo

**Chapter Four – The Search Starts**

When Hermione arrived back at her quarters, she was certain she had the answer, and it was making her almost giddy with anticipation. Whirling around on the spot, her eyes scanned every vertical surface, wondering where to start. Finally, reason overtook excitement and she headed for the private lab.

She crowed internally, thinking she hadn't had a brainwave of this magnitude for a long time. Standing as close to the centre of the room as she could, Hermione reasoned out where each wall was situation in relation to the others, and what was likely to be on the other side.

Obviously the wall with the door partitioned the lab from the study. She was fairly certain that the next one around, backed onto her bathroom, especially seeing that was where the water fixtures for the lab were situated, and that left two possibilities. _Where does the hallway connect up with all this?_ "I wish I had the Marauder's map," she grumbled, "that would help."

Even though, it had occurred to her that Severus may be on another plane, and not physically here, she reasoned that his belongings and mortal body were still close by, and further, considering her recent dreamscape, that they were very close to where she was currently standing.

Her main evidence for this was Saffie's appearance after the explosion, and she thought back to previous dreams of never ending corners and turns, and reasoned that this may have been partially her subconscious feeling frustrated by not being able to solve the problem. Although, the fact remained the dreams—while not as dramatic as this afternoons—had been so vivid there had to have been some fact to them.

All the time she was puzzling out her conundrum, Saffie was following her. After a while, Hermione got the idea that the bird was shaking her head sometimes. She started discretely watching the raven as she moved around the walls. There was one wall where the silky black head stayed still while Hermione stood in front of it. "So, this one, ay, Saff?" she asked cagily after watching the bird for some time.

It made sense too, the work bench was closest to this wall, if there had been an explosion, and it would have been this wall that was damaged. Hermione raised her wand and uttered the spell she had rehearsed in the library.

What she had been looking for in the library, was a spell that worked a little like Muggle Sonar. The spell caused the stream of magic to bounce off the first thing it encountered in an unseen space and return to Hermione's wand, where she could measure the time it took.

She tested it on something that she knew, the width of the lab. Hermione figured if she took a lot of measurements along the length of the wall that she suspected the explosion to have fractured, she couldn't go wrong, after all that was the benchmark for good experimenting. The more repetitions you did, the more reliable the results, so she set to work.

Two depressing hours later, Hermione realised that she had forgotten something very important in her excitement, it was a hidden room, and the castle was unlikely to show it to her just like that, and even if she had managed to find it she couldn't get in.

What was the key to finding her well-hidden wizard? She scrambled up off the floor and brushing off her jeans Hermione yawned and sighed. "Perhaps this was not such a brainwave after all?" she told the still watching raven.

Tired and slightly depressed she headed for the shower, leaving her wand on the bedside table as she passed through the bedroom. It wasn't until she was naked and stepping under the steaming water that her traitorous brain kindly informed her that at some point in the past, Severus had stood in exactly the same position with the same lack of clothing. "Great," she scoffed, "that's all I need."

It was one thing to tell people that sex was only for procreation and that you didn't need it. It was another thing entirely to admit that the only truly decent sex you have ever had was in your fantasies involving the wizard your brain had just reminded you of, and the only orgasms you had experienced had come by your own hand in that very situation. Not to mention that it had been quite some time since you had allowed yourself that pleasure as well, and she didn't give in this time either.

So it was a very up-tight Hermione Granger, who wondered as she slipped between the sheets, if Severus had slept on this mattress as well. Of course, none of this helped her predicament, and she tossed and turned for some time before she finally found sleep.

xox

Ever since she had been torn away from him that afternoon, there had been a wizard in black, in an unknown state of being, some place no one was sure of, who had been pacing and muttering to himself. "Things have been getting stranger and stranger since that…" he glared at the wall that had recently had the slight, for want of a better word, leak in it. "Friggin' bird, abandoning me like that." He stopped and glowered at the empty perch. "Bloody turncoat," he told the empty piece of wood.

Severus' gaze turned to the spot where the woman had disappeared earlier, and he inhaled deeply before turning away and starting to pace some more. Severus became increasingly agitated as he strode the small length from wall to wall, before whipping around to do it once more. "What did she mean, I _am_ that girl… she seemed to start to disappear after she said it, looking exasperated and yelling something about having just found him."

Then Severus stoped his pacing so abruptly that his voluminous robes wrapped around his legs from the inertia. "Did she mean me?" he pondered suddenly. Then something else trickled into his brain. "Is someone trying to find me?" His heart gave a lurch that could only be described as hope. "What else did she say? Oh yes, I have so many questions." A slow smile started to spread across his face, and before he knew where he was, Severus was actually laughing. "That sounds like Hermione."

He thought a moment longer. "In fact the woman who appear earlier very much resembled the feisty young witch I saved that awful night, but how she disappeared… could it be possible that I'm not merely a prisoner, but that I'm in limbo somewhere… some astral plane maybe?"

Then he looked at the perch again. "Saffie! Could there be a real world somewhere closer than I think?" Severus leaned on the window of his prison. Time seemed to have no meaning where he existed, it passed; he knew that. The sky reflected this fact, there was day and night, although he never seemed to sleep, and it was very much like being in an indeterminate state.

Severus was uncertain how much time had passed. After having his throat opened up by that snake, he did remember the moment the pain stopped, and there seemed to be nothing wrong with his throat at the moment, but that moment of numbness was an vague amount of time ago.

He never felt hungry or needed to go to the loo, and he hadn't had a shower in all this time, nor did he feel the need to. His beard never grew, and none of his clothing ever changed. He had reasoned to begin with that he may have been a ghost, but he didn't fit all the criteria, so he had dismissed that idea. To tell the truth, he didn't know exactly what he was, he simply existed, although he knew one thing, whatever he was, he was certain that his so called mentor, the great windbag, Albus Dumbledore was responsible for his predicament.

There was only one room that he seemed to be able to occupy. There was another door, but he was unable to open it, it was warded tightly and his magic didn't seem to work here. Severus remembered what seemed like some time back, finding Hermione and trying to lead her to that door. He somehow knew that what was behind it was very important, he still thought so. However, she hadn't appeared like the woman this afternoon, at the time she had been not quite substantial—like he was dreaming it—and had always seemed out of his reach, and sad when she came to him.

To a greater extend he felt like he had been trapped with her in a dream and he couldn't make her understand what he wanted. Then suddenly she didn't come looking for him anymore, and he had often wondered what had happened to her.

During their time together before the war, he had grown very fond of the young witch, and she was the only person he had seen in all this time. As he had been trapped here that fondness had developed into something deeper, and he would forever regret not telling her how special she was before he had set her free that last day.

Of course the reason was that he had known he was headed for his death that day, and he had not wanted her to be anymore attached to him than she was already. That was why he had merely promised her he would do his best to survive, hoping she wouldn't be too upset with him when he didn't.

A sudden gasp brought him back from his thoughts, and he found himself face to face with the woman again, and she was dressed in what was obviously nightwear.

His eyes raked over her form, while the nightie was not revealing in anyway, it certainly hugged her curves, and what lovely curves they were. Severus felt a tiny twitch from an area of his anatomy that had remained silent all this time.

It was enough to convince him that he was indeed still a living human, and that he had progressed far beyond 'something deeper' in his opinion of Hermione Granger, if she was the same woman. The Hermione of ages ago was always dressed in nightwear as well, but this same woman this afternoon had been clothed in jeans and a button up blouse.

Quite overjoyed to see her, and off kilter because of his body's reaction to her, he blurted before he could stop himself, "Are you Hermione Granger?"

She gave him a beautiful smile and nodded. "Yes," she finally managed, but her smile soon flickered out and her face became serious. "Oh Severus, I'm so sorry you've been waiting here all this time… and I…" she turned away unable to face what she perceived would be his wrath.

Hermione felt him come up behind her, and his beautiful voice sounded closer to her ear. "Hermione, how old are you?"

Once she had finished shivering at the timbre of his voice, she swallowed hard. "Thirtyseven," she mumbled quickly.

She heard his intake of breath and prepared for the worst. "Twenty years have passed?" he gasped. This seemed to shock him profoundly, and when she didn't move, he walked around to face her. "Then please explain to me, why I haven't seen you for twenty years?"

"I thought you were dead," she managed, swallowing convulsively again. "We all did."

"That doesn't explain your absence. You suddenly just stopped coming, and I couldn't work out why."

Hermione quickly grasped his train of thought, and the fact that he seemed more concerned that she hadn't come back. "You mean you remember… I thought they were just dreams, and after losing you…" Hermione stopped talking. There was no way that she was going to divulge the reason for her melancholy during that time.

However, Severus wasn't giving up on that line of questions. "Why did you disappear, and why are you back now?"

Hermione considered him carefully, and her voice was devoid of emotion when she spoke. "I disappeared because I left school, and I'm back now because Minerva has asked me to teach Potions."

"You became a Potions mistress?" he actually sounded proud.

"Yes," Hermione looked at the floor a moment, and then cleared her throat. "But I want to ask you some questions before I wake up."

Something else clicked into place. "So, it's only your subconscious mind that can find me?"

"Apparently," she paused before asking, "Has anyone else ever found you?" Hermione wasn't certain that she wanted the answer to that question, but it seemed like the right thing to ask.

But when he said, "No, only you," she found the tight knot that had formed in her chest loosen again, it also added further evidence to her research, but his next question filled her with dread. "Why?"

Hermione tried not to show her happiness at his answer or panic at the 'why'. She also felt sorry for him that he had been alone so long, she swallowed and forged ahead. "S-severus, do you know where you are?"

Her tone brought him back from his contemplations of her. "I assume that I'm at Hogwarts, and that my place of being is in the dungeons."

He stopped talking and Hermione prompted, "And nothing else."

"I also assume that whatever… afflicts me was the product of the mind of one Albus Dumbledore," and his tone was hostile.

"Yes, I assume the same," Hermione nodded, "However, I think it is more complicated than that," she saw she had his full attention. "I believe that the castle is also protecting the secret of your existence." She took a deep breath, "But as to the why, well I have some research, but…" and then she thought of another urgent thing and it took her train of thought. "Harry said that horrid snake attacked you, so your mortal body must be in stasis somewhere or you _would_ be a ghost by now." Hermione suddenly started looking around the room, as if searching for something. "Do you know where your body is?"

As she was saying the last word, Severus abruptly grabbed her hand. "This door," he gasped, almost dragging her across the room. "I think this door has something important behind it."

Hermione could feel ripples of magic rolling off the door like waves. They seemed to crash into her as they approached. "Can you feel the magic?" she asked Severus as they got closer.

"Yes," he answered, "but I can't do anything about it, my magic doesn't work."

Her hand instantly went for her wand, but then her face fell. "Damn, it's on the bedside table." However, it was looking down when she couldn't find her wand that Hermione realised how she was dressed.

At her mortified gasp Severus touched her forearm with his hand. "Please don't feel uncomfortable, Hermione."

This statement brought her eyes up to his, and she had never seen them looking so soft or open. "S-s-severus, I…" she stopped when she found he had stepped closer and that they were now in each other's personal space.

Of course as is the nature of sleep, her circadian rhythms choose that moment to bring her out of REM sleep and she started to feel herself being pulled away. The look of longing on her face started to be replaced with an expression of panic, "Oh no, I think I'm waking up," she said urgently, grabbing his forearms.

Severus wasn't prepared for what she said next, as his hands instinctively covered her elbows in support. "Please, I want to stay with you," he heard her plead, and unexpectedly there were tears already forming in her eyes. "I promise I'll find a way to help you," she told him and despite their hold on each other, she was gone.

Hermione woke in her bed in her dungeon room and was surprised to see that the sun appeared to be rising. She wiped her eyes and shivered as the normal cold feeling of being alone washed over her, but today that emptiness was tempered with some hope. She had talked to her Severus and they had touched.

She bounded out of bed and floo called Harry. "We need to find Dumbledore. I've talked to Severus again, and I think Dumbledore is the only one who can tell us what he has done."

"I agree, finding that portrait would be the easiest way to solve this mystery."

"What will we need?"

"Has Minerva assigned you an elf?"

"Yes, why?"

"We will need a liaison. Have you read anywhere about what to expect in the bowels of Hogwarts?"

"No, but I will," Hermione assured him.

"Good, you do that, and Ferret boy and me will be there at… well I'll have to see what time his majesty can make it."

"Okay, I'll set up a meeting with Minerva and I'll floo you the time. She will need to know what we're up to."

Harry's head disappeared for a moment, when he returned he asked, "Gin wants to come too."

"Okay, I can't see why not. So I'll let you know later," Hermione said, and disconnected as she got up off the floor. She ordered her breakfast and headed for her desk and _Hogwarts A History. _


End file.
